


Prime Numbers

by Rina9294



Series: Algebra [2]
Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-14
Updated: 2017-01-14
Packaged: 2018-09-17 12:21:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,590
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9323336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rina9294/pseuds/Rina9294
Summary: Brian's thoughts on his past with Mikey.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted April 2001.

Algebra.

Now why the fuck would I wake up thinking about that? God, my head hurts. Who knows what was in that shit that fucking pig Anita sold me last night. Mikey might - if he's in any better shape than I am.

Peeling one eye open shows me the loft is more or less in order and that \- thank God - last night's trick is gone. Yeah, I remember that, sort of. Fuck and run, no skin off my ass. Just means I don't have to kick him out now.

Closing my eyes, I relax back onto the blessed softness of the pillow, ignoring the stale smell of the sheets. Sunday. No work, no reason to get up. I can lie here as long as I want. Don't know what time it is and I don't fucking care. I'll get up eventually, when hunger or the need to piss makes me but, until then, this is heaven.

Algebra. Why the fuck does that word keep popping up in my head? I want to sleep, not get visited by junior high flashbacks. It's Mikey's fault, I know it. If he hadn't mentioned it last night, I wouldn't be fixated on it now. It's the fucking drugs, gotta be. Who gives a shit about a math class we took sixteen years ago?

Obviously Mikey does, or he wouldn't have said anything about it. If I could move, I'd grab the phone and call to bitch him out. I don't want to think about anything, let alone this. It has no purpose in my life so why is the thought hanging around my brain like a fucking pit bull that's latched on and refuses to let go?

Okay, gotta hit the can. Lets see if the legs work... That's not too bad, guess the shit wasn't as lousy I thought.

There. God, that feels better. There are times that taking a piss feels almost as good as coming and this is one of them. Coffee would make it better, but I don't have the patience to wait for it to brew, so water will have to do though I do turn on the pot - eventually I'll wake up enough to want some.

Forget the bed, too far to walk, the couch will do just fine for now. What the hell was Mikey thinking about? He was grinning like he'd just found some ultra-rare Captain Astro issue or something. I swear he looks like he did when we first met when he's smiling like that. Last time I saw it was at his birthday, before the shit went down.

Jesus, can I just stop thinking and go back to sleep! Turning over doesn't help, neither does burying my head in my arms to block out the light. The pit bull's shaking his head, digging deeper in my brain and that isn't helping my hangover one fucking bit.

Algebra. Fine, I'll try to figure out whatever the fuck it was Mikey was thinking and then maybe I'll be able to sleep. Considering how his head works though, the chance of that happening is slim to none.

Fuck it. Reaching blindly, I grab for the phone and hit the speed dial.

"Hey, you're up early." He sounds way too awake and chipper for whatever time it is, but then he probably wasn't fucking until all hours of the morning - matter of fact I'd bet money on that.

"What the fuck were you talking about last night?"

"What?" Now he's laughing. "Brian, I think you'd better go back to bed and sleep it off. I don't know what you mean."

"I can't sleep, that's the problem! What did you mean when you said you were thinking about algebra?"

There's a short silence at the other end of the line like I've surprised him or something. Good, I'm not going to be the only one in a shitty mood this morning. If I'm going down, I'm taking Mikey with me.

"I don't know. For some reason it popped into my head, no reason."

"Bull." He can't lie for shit and this time is no exception.

"Jesus, I don't know, I just was. Is that all right with you?"

"No." Bastard. He knows, he just won't tell me.

"I saw someone who reminded me of Mr. Hughley is all."

"Someone that old in Babylon? I didn't think the doc was into the club scene."

"He isn't - wasn't. It wasn't him."

Shit. I broke one of the unwritten rules. He doesn't mention Justin and I don't mention his unlamented (at least on my part) former significant other. But then, when did I ever play by the rules? "So there was someone else that old in the place? Membership standards must be slipping."

"Fuck off, Brian, I'm not in the mood." The phone goes dead in my ear. I suppose it's a good thing he was on the cordless or he'd have slammed it down and that would have done wonders for my headache.

Ah, he'll get over it, he always does. I will too if I can just figure a way to understand why this thoughts stuck in my head.

Coffee. I can smell it now. It may not help, but it sure as hell can't hurt. Slopping it into a mug and dumping in a few spoons of sugar, I wander back to the couch, sprawling out on it, letting the heat warm my hands while I try to think.

Mr. Hughley. I remember him - must have been in his fifties then, though it looked like his seventies from where we were sitting. Balding, with one of those stupid comb-overs and a pair of thick glasses. God, I remember more about him then I do the guy I fucked last night. Why is that?

Certainly wasn't his class, I spent most of it passing notes and pictures to Mikey, trying to crack him up or make him blush. Deb says I'm a bad influence on her little Michael and I never deny it. I just wonder when she's going to notice that her little Michael isn't so little any more.

I remember doing some stupid shit with prime numbers - trying to prove why they were only divisible by one and themselves. Mikey had a theory that it was a mutant super-power or something. I remember everyone laughing and how his face just fell... I stopped laughing after that.

Maybe that's what he meant. We're kind of like those prime numbers - all for one and one for all and all that happy crap. The only ones who can divide us are ourselves. He's the only one I trust and I'm the only one he...

Never mind. Algebra. It was a stupid fucking class a long time ago, who gives a fuck? No point in trying to figure out what Mikey was thinking, you'd need more than Professor X's powers to do that. I should call him back, see if he's okay. I don't know everything that happened with David, but I should have known better than to bring him up like that.

We're the only ones who can divide us and that's come close to happening too many times for me to let this pass lightly. Most of them were my fault; I've never denied I'm a selfish bastard. It's fucking ironic that the worst time was the once I was trying to be unselfish - good intentions and all that happy horseshit.

I should call him back; pick up the phone to do so when it rings. Mikey. He's so predictable it's pathetic, but it's a good kind of pathetic.

"Yeah?"

"Hey. Sorry I hung up, I was..."

"Pissed. It's no big thing, Mikey. You're allowed."

"Yeah, well... Want to grab some breakfast?"

Food... It's a little more appealing then it was when I woke up and maybe I can get him to explain if I get him face to face. He's a sucker in person. "Sure. Want me to pick you up?"

"Yeah, that'd be good. How long?"

"Give me forty five, I should be alive by then."

"I told you not to take that shit."

"Fuck you Dr. Novotny. Just be outside when I get there, I'm not waiting."

He laughs at that and makes some cryptic comment about the mysterious X - must be some new super hero he's discovered - and hangs up, leaving me to do the same.

Draining the coffee mug helps some, but I still wince when I walk into the bathroom and see myself in the mirror. Well, anyone would look like shit after the night I had.

Showering, shaving and more coffee bring me back to life and for a while I manage to ignore the nagging question in the back of my mind. Shades on, music blaring, I turn onto his street and there he is, waiting outside just as ordered. God, if he was any more predictable I'd be sick.

There's that grin again, only now it's laced with 'I know something you don't know but want to'. You're going to spill it, Mikey. I know you, I know how to get to you, and I will find out what you were talking about.

I have to. I guess it's that prime number thing again. No one can divide us but ourselves and that's not happening again. I'm stuck with you, Mikey, and you're stuck with me. Maybe what I told Deb is true. Maybe one day we'll be a couple of old queers in Palm Springs, but until then...

We're prime.


End file.
